Lost Books
by TheDevilsMasterpiece
Summary: I had this idea right before bed and tried my luck in writing again. Sorry if there are still any grammatical errors, English isn't my first language...


It was already late in the evening, and no other customer had shown up for the past hour. It was a good time to just close the store, enjoy a glass of his favorite rosé and have nice sandalwood and amber scented bubble bath. Maybe he even would read one of his books. A day couldn't be finished in any better way than that.

The angel walked towards the front door of the shop to lock the door, which he surely could have done with a single snap of his fingers, but after living among humans for such a long time, even the angel grew that one or another weird habit. Eyes scanned the streets out of curiosity or as if he was waiting for his demonic friend to show up. But there was something else that got the angel's attention. On the other side of the street parked a black car. The street lamp was the only light source to let Aziraphale see a little more. He didn't think anything bad, probably just a man who was waiting for a friend to come out.

Instead of leaving and continuing with his own business, Aziraphale stood there a little longer and watched the man in the car. He was quick to turn off the lights in his shop to stay hidden in the dark. Somehow it got the driver's attention, which had a phone pressed to his ear; his head was turned towards the shop for at least a whole minute. Something about this whole situation made the angel rather uncomfortable. It was known that he had some rather rare and really expensive books. And if someone got the idea of stealing and selling them, it would ruin the blonde. Some of those books needed a lot of effort to be found and added to his collection. But the angel pushed the thoughts off, in the naive hope that nothing would happen. After all, Aziraphale had this shop for quite some time and there never happened anything. And although that there was a first time for everything, the angel still believed that nothing could happen.

With a soft sigh passing his lips, the male stepped back and turned the light on in the back of the shop to tidy up his desk and to eventually find the right book he could read while having a nice and long bath. Soon, the male's mind wandered over to his demonic friend, wondering what Crowley was doing on such a nice evening. There was a temptation to cancel his previous plans and call him. Either for a bit of chit chat or to have a nice dinner somewhere. Thinking of Crowley always but the angel into a much better mood. Cheeks were faintly painted in red, and his heart raced in his chest. It happened lately more often than the principality wanted to admit.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear what was going on in the front of the shop. Someone had quietly opened the door, and the way was made rather quickly over to where the angel was. The light had given off that there still was someone inside. And before he had got the chance to react, Aziraphale could feel how something hard hit him and in the next moment, he fell to the ground.

In sheer panic tried the principality to open his eyes and get up, but there was another hit over his head and then against his ribs. His breath hitched in his chest. A single miracle should be enough to put an end to all of this, but whoever this person was, was a little faster and pulled up the angel to drag him over to the chair. A couple more hits were enough for the blonde to lose consciousness. To make sure that the thief would be safe, he tied the angel down to the chair, unable for the book shop owner to free himself and to make sure that he wouldn't be able to scream for help, something was pushed into his mouth, before duck tape was used to grant the needed silence.

Everything that happened afterward, was unstoppable. After a few hours, at least it was what if felt like, the angel was conscious and cracked his eyes open. This what he then saw, was like a real nightmare. The back and most likely the rest of the shop were a real mess. Books were tossed around, and a great deal of them was already missing. Aziraphale knew which ones were stolen. The rare, first edition ones. Those who were expensive and good to sell when you had the right connections.

His heart broke at the sight. Trying to get up or move, the angel soon learned that there was no way to get out. Not even his fingers were able to be moved since the thief had made sure to tie the ropes firmly around the principality. Maybe he would be able to summon Crowley. The angel's tongue poked against something in his mouth, he tried to push it out but his lips didn't want to part. And now he realized that he was even unable to call for Crowley.

It didn't take too long, and the male's body began to shake. A silent tear ran down his cheek, followed by a second one. This all had to be an awful nightmare, and he would wake soon up. It just had to be this way. But no matter how much he wished for it, no matter how much he hoped for it to be just a dream, as long as the angel tried to free himself, to part his lips to summon Crowley, he had to accept that it was the reality.

This all could take up to a few days. They both were used to be apart for a few days or even weeks. Or longer if Crowley decided to nap a little longer than necessary. And Aziraphale was forced to just stare at the chaos and wait for his demon to get worried enough and show up at the bookshop.


End file.
